Days of Rain
by Moonlight And Sky
Summary: After "Wilson's Heart", many lives will never be the same again. House/Wilson/Cuddy angst, among other things.
1. Intro

_**A/N: **It's been a while. This story takes place a few weeks after the finale. Spoilers included, of course. And reviews are welcome like sunshine, so keep 'em coming. I know this intro is a bit short, but longer chapters are currently in the making, don't worry. I also want you to know that this is not the first fanfic I've written or 'published'. It's just been over a year since I last put so much effort into something._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, even sold my birthday last week. House and everyone else involved is property of Fox and David Shore._

**Days of Rain: Intro**

In Princeton, autumn generally followed the heat of the summer like everywhere else. The days began to seem shorter, the nights longer and colder. It rained a lot, which meant also more flu-ridden patients for most of the doctors, but that was also the case in a supposedly much warmer season. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

But this autumn was different.

Small water droplets ran steadily down the glassy window, obscuring the already blurred landscape on the outside. The trees were still green, hadn't yet started to change their colors, but the sky was shaded gray, while dark, cotton candy-like clouds loomed ominously over the small city.

Inside his apartment, a man was shivering under the covers of his queen-sized bed. It couldn't have been after two in the morning, but he kept staring at the ceiling, not even attempting to go back to sleep after waking up for the third time that night.

He felt cold, and no amount of covers and comforters would be able to keep him warm.

With a sigh, he rolled over and reached for his phone on the nightstand. He grasped the small device tightly, his fingers hitting speed dial number 3 before he had a chance to stop himself. Maybe she'd answer? It seemed like an eternity since he had last heard her voice.

But only the hollow dial tone sounded when he pressed the phone against his ear.

_Of course there's no answer. _

The voice in his head reminded him of something, and soon he was pushing other buttons on his mobile phone. There was a moment of utter silence until a beeping announced the arrival of a new text message.

"_This mobile phone has been temporarily disconnected by the owner. Please do not respond to this automatically generated SMS. Leave your number to get in touch."_

Dabbing at his suddenly wet eyes with his pajamas' sleeve, the man dropped the phone. It landed unceremoniously on the polished floor.

"Damn you, House."

The man gave up sleep for the rest of the night and padded to the tiny living room instead, not even feeling the stinging cold of the tiles on his bare feet.


	2. Like Floating

**2. Like Floating**

She was clad in white, and in white only. An eerie glow radiated from her. There was no doubt about who she was, but he somehow knew her name would never fall from his lips again, just like his wouldn't even enter his thoughts, the memory of their last encounters still fresh in his mind. When she came to visit him, he was lost. He had been before and was now.

He was sorry about everything, sorry about her death because the other one, his friend, loved her. Sorry because he had once again managed to make a mess without meaning to.

He couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for her, though, because he didn't even remember her name.

The secret they obviously shared effectively made emotions like remorse or guilt – at least towards her - impossible. She had made sure of that with her sharp, measured words. None of it would be mentioned again.

"You've been drinking, _Greg_."

_You've been a very bad boy, Gregory. Do you know what happens to bad boys?_

The added emphasis on his first name was making him uneasy. She hadn't allowed herself to call him that before, always labeling him "House". He didn't know why anymore. Being here, alone with her, chased the less important things away from him like bad dreams.

"Your pills are gone, Greg. When did you take the last of them?"

Again with the name. He couldn't remember how long ago it had been, but wasn't alarmed by that fact. Didn't matter. His leg wasn't hurting, and he didn't question it.

But she was still there, sitting on the same spot as she had done few days before. Her questions started to make him dizzy.

"Why did you choose to come back, Greg?"

"How could you let me get to you? He was your friend, Greg."

Her use of the past tense didn't escape him. But Greg remained silent, his gaze solemnly locked on his bare feet. His mind was as blank as the empty, sterile room surrounding the two of them.

_Why did you run away, son? Now they think you're afraid. Afraid! Can you imagine that? You should be ashamed of yourself, Gregory._

"_'m sorry."_

"Yeah, Greg. You should be."

Was she still talking? He couldn't remember if she ever stopped. Only then he realized where he was, with whom he was. What she was talking about. And what would happen now. When he saw the red scarf lightly wound around her neck, he knew he would wake up again and she would be gone once more.

So when he finally _did_ wake up, sweaty and sticky in all the wrong places but still in his own bed, he wasn't the least bit surprised to find himself actually clinging to the red fabric for dear life with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around another pair of surprisingly cold fingers.

* * *

Cuddy hadn't meant to doze off. She just wanted to make sure House was physically well enough to be discharged and wouldn't pull off another seizure once he was home, but then they had ordered take-out. Which usually meant discussing every single item on the menu list until one of them would give up, settling for whatever the other one was having.

Well, maybe on other nights.

This time, House only threw the flyer at her along with the phone and flopped down on the couch. He was visibly exhausted from the journey they had behind them. She had ordered on her own then, picking out her most favorite meal for herself and some Chicken Lo Mein for House. It was an obvious choice since he ordered that stuff all the time.

After dinner, House was even more withdrawn.


End file.
